


Passions Prologue: Companion Chapter Seven

by DanaKeylits



Category: Castle
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaKeylits/pseuds/DanaKeylits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The "hidden" chapter seven of the Passions Prologue story found at Fanfiction.net, but too explicit to post there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passions Prologue: Companion Chapter Seven

**Passions Prologue  
** By Dana Keylits 

**Companion Chapter Seven**

(This is the M+ chapter for my story [Passions Prologue](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9512426/1/Passions-Prologue), located at FFNet.)

* * *

 

  _ **H** oly shit._

_They were really fucking. Right in front of us. This wasn’t a dance, an erotic sort of Cirque du soleil like before, this was just two ordinary people, just like you and me, ordinary people with ordinary lives and jobs and homes, and they were fucking right in front of us, knowing we were watching, wanting us to watch._

_And there was you, positively humming beside me, coaxing me, teasing me with that velvety voice of yours, your heady seductive scent, your way, and I know you know what I mean by that.  Your flawless mocha skin made my lips quiver with need, and at that moment, right then, the only thing I wanted to do was rip your clothes off, ravage you, take you against the wall, pin your hands over your head, my lips and tongue and teeth descending on every line and curve and soft rise of muscle over bone beneath your perfectly sculpted flesh._

_I wanted to fuck you with my fingers, make you come around me, make you beg and plead for more, and then make you watch while I did the same to myself, not letting you touch me, not letting you touch yourself. But I couldn’t tell you, didn’t tell you, because I was mute, I was paralyzed, incapable of speech or sound or movement of any kind, except the involuntary rocking of my pelvis against the hard chair._

_And so, instead, I sat there, wiggling in my seat, aroused and barely breathing, and watched as Mr. and Mrs. ordinary fucked their brains out right in front of us._

_But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to tell you, did I? You already knew. Of course you already knew, you were a minx, a seductress, a succubus, and you already knew the erotic wanting of my heart. And, you also knew, didn’t you, that an hour from now, it would be you and me in one of these rooms, fucking our brains out._

_Fucking our brains out in front of an audience._

* * *

 

**T** hey were in the missionary position, his hands tucked beneath her shoulders, her legs wrapped around his middle, and he was _pounding_ into her, fast and hard, relentless. Her face was turned to one side, an almost pained expression on it, as he suckled on one breast. A speaker above the glass betrayed their moans and grunts, _oh fucks,_ and, _Oh God’s_ , and I found myself growing oddly aroused by watching them.

 I was keenly aware of Bette sitting beside me, her smooth mocha skin, the way her dress hugged her body, the subtle scent of lavender that floated through my nostrils, her smile, the lilt of her head, her hands, her perfect, skillful hands that _do_ things to me.

And I wanted to reach over, touch her, do dirty things to _her_. 

“What is their fantasy?” I asked.

She shrugged, turning back to watch the pair. “Public sex, probably. They’re pretty vanilla.” She inched her hand higher up on my thigh, her fingertips just barely scraping the hem of my skirt. “It’s why most people use these rooms,” she raised an eyebrow and looked at me, a salacious smile on her lips, “they know we’re watching.” 

“Ah,” I replied, returning my attention to the couple, their moans and cries growing more urgent, his gyrations penetrating her at such a fast pace I couldn’t believe he hadn’t torn through her.

“Does that turn you on?” She asked, her fingers tracing the line of my chocolate skirt, teasing the fabric up just ever so slightly.

I shuddered. “Um. Kind of. Yeah,” I answered, somewhat distracted by the _fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck Ohhhhhhhh God!_ that was filtering through the speaker above me. The woman looked like she was close to coming and I felt a dampness settle between my legs. I shifted in my seat, and I could feel Bette’s smile.

She stood up, taking my trembling hand in hers, “C’mon. Let’s find another one.”

I tugged at her hand, resisting, “Wait,” I protested. “I want to…” 

She stared at me and then glanced at the couple, a sideways grin capturing her smile. “You want to watch him come.” It was a statement.

I shook my head. “No.” I stared at the couple, the woman was long legged, blonde, lithe, her body flushed, a thin sheen of sweat luminous against her alabaster skin, making her look like she was positively _sparkling_ under the glow of the half-light. Her back was arched, her breasts heaving, nipples deliciously erect, and she coiled her legs around him as he fucked her, ramming into her _over_ and _over_. 

The sound of their bodies slapping against one another, echoed throughout the tiny observation room, making me feel uncomfortably _warm_. I chin-nodded at the woman and then returned Bette’s gaze, “Her.” 

Bette’s mouth fell open. I’d surprised her. I liked this. Liked knowing I _could_ surprise her, since it seemed like the surprises were usually mine.

_Two for two today,_ I thought.

She glided behind me, gathering my hair in one hand and scooping it to the side. Then she put her mouth against my ear, just barely brushing my flesh with the soft press of her lips, her breath warm, inviting, _sexy._   “Okay, Kate. Let’s _watch.”_ She purred.

My belly contracted, I was getting so _wet_ , my body so sensitive, so charged, just the sound of her breathing behind me sending me into an almost otherworldly state of arousal. And as her lips trailed the back of my neck, leaving a hot wet path in their wake, her hands floating above my shoulders, her fingertips just barely scraping my bare skin beneath the fabric of my blouse, I thought I might _come_ right then and there.

And as if on cue, the woman in front of us grabbed at the pillow beneath her head as he slowed his assault, coaxing her orgasm. _Fuck, fuck, ohhhhh fuck, Jack, Jesus, fuuuuuuck!!!_

Bette slipped her hand over my collarbone, my sternum, beneath my top, her fingers dancing on my breast, and whispered, “His name is Jack.”

_Oh, oh, oh, oh god, oh god, Gloria!!!_

I could feel her smile against my ear. “And, her name is Gloria.”

 

* * *

 

_**M** y cunt was throbbing._

_Crass, I know. It’s not a word I normally use, but it’s the only apt description for what you were doing to me, what you were doing to my body, my soul, my psyche. When you touched me, touched my neck, my shoulder, my breast, touched me anywhere, I immediately felt it in my cunt. Every feathered caress creating a corresponding contraction, and I wondered whether it was possible to come that way._

_To come simply from the feel of your lips against my neck._

_I wanted to find out._

_You could sense how close I was, how in tune to every ghosted touch of your fingers, your lips, even the tickle of your soft hair as it brushed against my skin, incidental contact, but arousing and cunt-throbbing nonetheless. You walked around my chair to stand in front of me, the previously fucking couple behind you coiled around each other in a post-coital embrace. Their bodies wet with sweat, their breathing heavy and labored, and they were whispering to each other, dirty things to each other._

_And it fucking turned me on._

_You gently unbuttoned my shirt and I uncrossed my legs, hoping you’d slip your hand there again. But you didn’t, you just gave me that look of yours, that wry smile, the tilt of your head, slope of your eyebrow, and you unbuttoned my shirt far enough that you were able to push it aside and cup my bra, your thumb skimming over my already erect nipple._

_You peeled my shirt from one shoulder, then teased my bra-strap, your fingernails scraping my skin, sending lighting bolts straight to my cunt, until the thin strap fell limply against my upper arm. When you caressed my cheek with your hand, I wanted to bite it. I don’t know why, I can’t explain it, but I was so aroused, so agitated, that I needed to bite something._

_Preferably you._

_My cunt was throbbing, wet and pulsing, and as soon as your lips locked onto my hardened nipple, your tongue swirling, teasing, coaxing, your teeth nipping and scraping at the sensitive flesh, your mouth sucking, I knew the answer to my question._

_Yes, it was possible to come that way. _

* * *

  

**I** was aware of the couple who’d silently crept into the room, sitting in the vacant stools next to us, but I didn’t care, my forehead resting on Bette’s as she whispered dirty secrets to me, salacious forbidden words spilling from her lips and I greedily sipped them up, my body pulsing in synch with her quickened breaths, tiny aftershocks radiating from between my legs, a memory of the unexpected orgasm that had just surprised me, had surprised us _both_.

Again.

Her hand was on my exposed breast, still kneading, teasing, her fingers twisting and pulling on my sensitive nipple. She tilted towards me, put her lips on mine, soft and searching, and my tongue darted out to meet hers, dancing from inside the warm cavern of her mouth to inside of mine, then slowly back to hers. My fingers roamed the feminine lines of her back, tripping over her spine before tangling in the soft curls of her midnight colored hair, and I pushed her closer to me, hardening the kiss, approaching the boundaries, savoring the vanilla taste of her. 

She moaned, then purred, then chuckled as she pulled away, sliding my bra strap up, helping me adjust my blouse. I suddenly became aware of the other people in the room and I could feel the heat of embarrassment creep up my neck and paint my face, my cheeks burning and crimson. I looked down, not wanting to see them, afraid that they’d be laughing at me, but Bette placed her finger on my chin, forcing my head up and I met her gaze. Her gentle smile, the warm and knowing expression in her eyes were like an instant balm, a healing salve against my darker thoughts. With an almost imperceptible shake of her head, she whispered, “Never be ashamed of this.” 

How had she known? I’d been _in_ it with her, a willing participant. So, how had she known that I was struggling with remorse?

I tamped it down. Squashed it. I wanted this. I wanted her. 

I wanted to live out my fantasies.

 

* * *

 

_**I** f the truth were told, I was extremely aroused by the knowledge that we had been seen, again, in spite of the momentary shame that had dominated my thoughts. That my coming had been witnessed not just by me, by you, by God, but by strangers that I would, in all likelihood, never see again. I don’t know why that was so titillating, so incredibly arousing, but it was._

_And, it only made me want more._

_You got off on it, too. I could tell, when my fingers had wandered between your legs, you were damp, sensitive, your whole body shuddered as my fingertips skimmed your outer lips, even through the cotton fabric of your underwear. I wish I could have made you come too, felt you explode around me, but you had other plans._

_How many rooms did we go in? Three? Four? The two guys jacking off together did nothing for me, but the two women were incredible, one of them was all legs and arms, straight jet black hair that fell in perfect lines down her back, the other was shorter, curvier, her breasts were full and beautiful and trussed up in a black and white satin bra. It was the way they moved together that was most arousing, as though they knew each move and counter move of the other, each breath, each heart beat, each sigh and whisper, in perfect almost Jedi synchronicity. When the taller woman was tied up, her hands bound and suspended from the ceiling, her knees barely touching the bed below, I had to fan myself. It made me think about being tied up. About being tied up by you, and having you do things to me._

_Very. Dirty. Things._

_And, then, there was the whip. The sound of it alone was enough to send me into nirvana, but seeing her get wacked, over and over, across her tear-drop shaped breasts, her abdomen, her full round ass, the back of her thighs, I had to touch myself again, this time my nipples, perhaps in sympathy as I watched her skin turn pink and then red._

_But it was the vibrator that had nearly sent me over the edge. After an interminable amount of teasing and whipping, spanking, licking, biting, the curvy woman had taken a vibrator, the end of it shaped like rabbit ears, and pressed it hard against the other woman’s clit. Her body had immediately broken out into a sweat and she screamed, her words garbled and incoherent, her wrists straining in their confinement, her body convulsing, writhing - you could almost see the orgasm as it rolled through her._

_They spoke to each other, too, secrets and promises, a litany of illicit words, and it turned me on, and so I’d grabbed your hand, told you I wanted to go back to your place so we could fuck each other, fuck each other until we couldn’t take it anymore, and then do it  some more._

_But, you had other plans._

 

* * *

 

  **A** s soon as she closed the door behind us, we _flew_ at each other. Arms and legs colliding and coiling, her lips on mine, hard and urgent, as though exacting something from me. I stumbled backwards into the room, her hands and mouth _everywhere_ , my hands desperate to find her softest places, until my knees hit the bed and she threw me on top of it and then pounced on me with demanding hands. She flipped me over, unzipped my skirt and yanked it from my body. I tried to get on my hands and knees but she held me down, whispering her carnal demands in my ear. Her breath was hot, panting, dangerous and I whimpered beneath her. I think I screamed, too, I think I _roared¸_ because suddenly a _fuck_ was echoing around the spaces between us. 

She told me what to do, and I did it. _Get on your knees. Stay on your elbows. I want your ass in the air._ She peeled my underwear off of me, roughly shoving them down my legs, I lifted my knees one at a time so she could get the fabric past them, and then she yanked them past my calves, my feet, flinging them onto the floor next to the rumpled heap of my skirt. 

I was fully exposed, my ass in the air, my cunt throbbing and wet, waiting for her, wanting her, an aching, painful need. She sidled up behind me, having taken off most of her clothing, and thrust her pelvis against my ass. _Get up_. I came up on my knees and she came behind me, leaning her body into me, her arms snaking around my body. She quickly unbuttoned my shirt and shoved it from my shoulders and down my arms, tossing it aside. Her hands cupped my breasts, they were greedy and rough, her fingers teasing the nipples, and then she quickly unclasped it and tore it from me.

I was completely nude. And so was she.

Her hands and lips were all over me, everywhere, kneading and coaxing, her fingers sliding inside of me, and a long, slow moan rose from her throat when she felt exactly how wet, how ready, I was.

“Oh my, fuck, Kate.” 

“Please do,” I hissed. And, she spanked me for my impudence. 

_Hard._  

I cried out in surprise and she laughed. “Get back on your elbows, now, Kate. Because I’m gonna fuck you. I’m gonna fuck you good, and hard, and _long_ ,” she hissed.

I did as I was told, and even though I’d obeyed, I got another _smack_. And then another, and another, and with each slap I cried out, my voice alternating between garbled incoherent cries and mournful _oh fucks._  

And then she was inside of me, at first with just her fingers and I leaned back into her, my hips already moving and rocking, but then she replaced her fingers with a cool, hard, glass dildo, and it filled me completely. 

I don’t know where it came from, she hadn’t brought it with her, so it must have been somewhere in the room. I panicked, thinking it had been used by someone else, and I paused my gyrations. “Bette, where-?” 

“It’s new. See?” She showed me the box it had come in. “They’re well stocked here, it’ll be charged to my credit card.” She nibbled on my earlobe, “It’s my gift for you, you can keep it, take it home with you, fuck yourself with it, hopefully while thinking about _me_.”  With ‘me’ she thrust it into my wet cunt, once, then twice, three times, then she pulled it out and teased the head of it against my swollen clit. Laughing when she heard me gasp.

“Want more?” she teased, her voice smooth and low.

“Mmmm,” I replied, as coherently as I possibly could, my head rolling forward on to the mattress.

She leaned over me, her mouth hot on my ear. “What do you _want_ , Kate?”

I moaned, my thoughts and words a jumbled mass of incoherent utterances. I wanted _her._ I wanted her to do whatever she wanted.

_Whatever_ she wanted. 

I told her this, but it wasn’t good enough and she pulled the dildo away from my clit, warning me, denying me, urging me to _tell_ her what I wanted until a _fuck me!_ came roaring past my lips like a freight train traveling down hill.

_Good girl_ , she’d said, her fingers strumming my cunt, alternating between dipping inside of me, and tapping gently against my clit. Then she gathered my hair in one fist and ordered me to my knees again, I slammed against her body, feeling her soft breasts smashed against my back, her nipples hard on my skin, and before I knew it, the dildo was back inside of me, pumping, fucking, in and out, hard, urgent, her pelvis slapping against my ass with an audible _slap, slap, slap._

I suddenly realized she’d snaked one hand around to my front, her fingers playing with my clit, her other hand was still holding my hair, forcing my head to incline against her shoulder.

But she was still fucking me with the dildo. 

I reached behind me and gathered her hair in my fist, twisting my head to the side so I could kiss her, my mouth hard against hers, my tongue relentless. When we stopped, realizing we needed air to live, I whispered, “What? How are you..?”

“A strap-on,” she hissed.

And then she grabbed me by the upper arms, yanking the dildo out of me and twisting my body around, literally _throwing_ me onto my back. I landed hard, all of the air in my lungs escaping in a forceful _whoosh_ that made me dizzy, crazy, disoriented. She hovered over me, the strap-on dangling from between her legs, and she stroked it like she could _feel_ it, like she’d suddenly grown a _cock_ , and I writhed and groaned at the sight. So incredibly, totally, turned on by the sight of this. 

I spread my legs wide and then hooked them behind her, trying to force her towards me, and she laughed, one hand still stroking the dildo, the other she used to wag a finger at me. “You’re impatient, Kate.” She accused. “We need to savor this.”

I groaned, arching my back, urging her forward until she finally acquiesced and landed on top of me, the dildo _thwacking_ my upper thigh as she descended. It was slick, wet from my juices, and this excited me.

She was in me again, fucking me, my legs coiled around her middle, her strokes even, timed to some unseen metronome, her breasts smashed against mine, her lips exploring the column of my throat, my chin, cheeks, forehead, lips. My sweet, swollen lips.

I groaned into her mouth and she sipped it up, her thrusts growing more urgent as she read my breathing, felt my heart race beneath her. I was dizzy with the conflicting sensations she was producing in me, the soft feminine lines of her body, her softer parts melding into mine, juxtaposed against the familiar masculine feeling of a full hard cock inside of me, fucking me, pounding me.

The dichotomous nature of it sent me spiraling, higher and higher, nearing the pinnacle moment. And, with her name dripping from my lips, I _came_. Hard, fast, _loud_. And then, minutes later, I came again. This time sharper, shorter, but somehow more satisfying.

She manipulated the cock inside of me, slowing then stopping her forceful thrusts with each contraction of my cunt, and I stared at her with hazy unfocused eyes, the atmosphere of the room charged and thick, my thoughts wandering to dangerous places, wanting her to fuck me all night. Keep me naked, passive, at her complete bidding, And then I remembered that behind the mirror on the wall beside us, were people who had just witnessed my undoing. I’d been so keenly aware of them at first, the thought of them watching me, watching us, so arousing that I’d been swept away by my own arousal and had completely forgotten about them.

I turned to look at the mirror, wondering where their thoughts were, where their _hands_ were. Were they stroking themselves? Aroused by Bette and me? Aroused by our nakedness? By the way she’d just fucked me? By the way I’d just come? And then come again?

And, it wasn’t until we were dressed and walking out of the door that I was inexplicably struck by a sense of embarrassment, a sudden sense of shame. It ran over me like a speeding bus, unexpected, powerful, and I became profoundly and utterly confused by what we had just done.

I think it washed over me right after we’d passed by some men who looked at me as thought they knew me, as though they’d _been with_ me. And, I realized, as I met their shining, admiring eyes, that they had witnessed my orgasm, had witnessed our lovemaking. And now they _knew_ me.

And, I didn’t know what to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
